


To Be

by lindaljc



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 00:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18487732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindaljc/pseuds/lindaljc
Summary: Blair's 'dying' thoughts at the fountain.  Spoilers for Sentinel Too, parts 1 & 2.A/N #1: I've never seen a story from Blair's point of view about “The Fountain”.





	To Be

**Author's Note:**

> A/N #2: I've been looking back at some of my very early stories, written for the television show The Sentinel. I've decided to post a few of them here. If you're not a fan of the show I will still be writing and posting stories for Stargate Atlantis. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters, places, and objects from The Sentinel belong to Pet Fly Productions, UPN, Paramount and the SciFi Channel. No money is being made. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> This story was written by lindaljc with the love of the show in mind.

...

 

Blair drifted, unaware of the unending twilight. It was so easy to lose the thread of time and place when there were no markers to quantify or measure. Here, no thoughts tumbled haphazardly through his mind. Being ... was his existence. There was no purpose, no place, no person. All else but simple being was unknowable. To be, was enough. 

 

A surreal calm, unrelated to his earthly existence, permeated this being. And the twilight continued. Soft haze forever. Limbo. Cypher. Nought. 

 

An equation of being: x + 0 = x . In this equation, zero was a quantity of no importance. And 'x' ? An abstraction? A code for nonentity? An unknown?

 

Until ....

 

A surf sounded, beating on the shore of his oblivion. Surging and fading with the tides of his heart. A heart which was fading with each rush of the tide. 

 

The consciousness adrift in the twilight dimness stirred. It yielded a wisp of yearning for an understanding of the equation of life ... for more than nonexistence. 

 

Fading entities were perceived. They were ... cold ... and pain. The pain had burned him ... in him. It had been everything. But this being, this one, had shied away from such pain once before. As the re-acknowledged alarm was again submerged, a perception of light drew its (or is it his?) attention. 

 

A voice he shouldn't have been able to understand, or even to hear, spoke in firm tones, “Enqueri was too quick to grieve for his guide. You, too, must choose,” intoned Incacha.

 

Enqueri had grieved for his shaman, Incacha. And now, there was a choice to be made? By the guide? 

 

An echo of the pain distracted him. He recognized this. Oxygen deficit, the scientist in him defined it thus. He was suffocating. No ... a name ... Alex. She had taken him to the fountain. Drowning. He was drowning. He felt a whisper of fear, and of longing, and of grief for his own death and for loss undefined.

 

He had little sense of his physical self. Panic was a distant thing, withered to the point that it conferred little strength, or will, to save him. His consciousness, if that's what this was, was fading fast. And Incacha waited for a choice. The guide's choice. Blair's ... mine. What? To be ... or not to be ... dead?

 

He dreamed? What was dream and what was real, or was it neither? If the pain stopped did that mean his existence also ended? 

 

He sensed his living body fade from his conscious thought. It felt as if his spirit was transformed, freed. As the spirit, Wolf, he turned toward the light and hesitated ... suspended at this moment of decision. 

 

Wolf felt another's presence, strong and vital, and so near. There was recognition. It was Jim's spirit, Jaguar. Was it strong enough to snatch someone from death itself? Was this Jim's choice? Did he choose Blair, as guide and companion? Did he come to snatch him from that very threshold? 

 

What possible power could Jim have ... any sentinel have ... to bring someone back from the dead? Why did Incacha come to Blair to tell him that he could choose? Was there a power that fought death? Could any man, sentinel or not, win such a fight? What would be the cost?

 

With each fading beat of his heart he felt with more certainty that Jim had come to fight this battle for him. Now Blair alone must choose to go into the light that beckoned, that promised a safe haven. Or he could choose to be with the other half of himself, to be the companion of a sentinel. 

 

From whence came the enveloping warmth that calmed him? Light? ... or Jim? The choice was simple enough. The light didn't hold the only warmth. And the light would not be without pain if it was without Jim. 

 

To be or not to be Jim's guide, Jim's friend. There was warmth in this ... to be with Jim. Even if he had to turn from the light, he knew the light would be waiting for them both. 

 

Wolf turned toward Jaguar. The jungle disappeared in their rush toward each other; toward life ... bonded not bound. 

 

In a flash of brightness that signaled the merge of sentinel and guide, they were to be allowed a great gift ... to be given a second chance. 

 

Not to be squandered. No! To be fought for through trying ordeals. And to be cherished all the more when their destiny was fulfilled.

 

...

finis


End file.
